Fangrai Forever
by ElissaCousland
Summary: In which ElissaCousland attempts to fill as many prompts as possible in the days remaining. Formerly titled Fangrai February. Ratings may vary. Chapter 6: Prompt 100. Sometimes Lightning wishes Fang would stop talking, if only for a reprieve from the feelings her voice instills. 1000-word drabblefic.
1. Voyuerism is Creepy

It isn't necessary.

It's not subtle, either.

It isn't anything he can put his finger on, exactly.

Still, Hope isn't quite sure he likes the way Lightning looks at Fang.

The soldier's cool blue gaze slides over to the woman currently bathing in a clear, shallow stream. She's naked, but the water comes up to her navel. Her perfect, large breasts…perfectly…bouncing… and the water drops rolling off perfect skin…

Hope shakes himself with a huge effort and pries his eyes away. But Lightning continues to stare, and the only excuse she gives him is: "I'm keeping watch." Her eyes slide over to him for just a moment, and seemingly as an afterthought she adds, "It's dangerous out here,"

Hope quietly nods, more to himself than to Lightning, because her gaze has already turned back to Fang. Her expression never changes. She openly stares at Fang. There's something tense inside of Lightning, like a coil wound to too-tight that with just a flicker of a touch, could spring. Hope doesn't realize how right he is at that thought.

Lightning looks ready to spring on Fang and…

And what?

He doesn't know. Somehow, he doesn't think Lightning's angry. Still… there's something raw and primal at war within the soldier, and she seems just about ready to let it loose on Fang. Hope quietly backs out of the clearing the way he came. He had found them by accident, looking for somewhere to wipe the grime from himself as well, but now he needs to leave. Whatever Lightning is about to do to Fang, it can't be good.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to Raziel12 for pimping Fangrai Feb! I'm working on another one, but this one caught my eye for a li'l quickie.


	2. Private Showing

-Private Showing-

A billion eyes have seen her, memorized every curve of her body. The swell of her hips, the length of her thighs, the gentle slope of her calves, the exact cup size of her breasts. Supermodel Claire "Lightning" Farron has been a well-known visage for the past decade, dominating every ad campaign from Behemoth-O's breakfast cereal to her own brand of running shoes. As the face of Sanctum Productions Modeling Co., Lightning has seen it all, done it all. Well, almost.

And that brings her to here, today. A new spread. A brilliant young up-and-coming photog. And a line she had never even once thought of crossing. The shutter clicks away a billion times a minute and each flash produced amplifies the beating of her heart. Countless agents, producers, photogs, managers, everyone in her entire entourage at one point or another has tried to convince her to do this.

The young photographer steps back, replaces a roll of film, looks up at her. There's a wordless wonder in her gaze, a mixture of starstruck awe, determined professionalism, and genuine fascination. She gestures at her collar, her tongue coming out to wet her lips a little. " More," she whispers.

Claire can't say no this time. On the two previous spreads she's already worked with Fang Yun, the talented woman has managed to do something no one else could. She's brought out a new facet to Lightning's work.

On some deeper level Lightning's aware what Serah will think on seeing this month's spread. Specifically the centerfold.

The constant chattering of the shutter suddenly stops. Lightning glances at Fang. The woman looks up at Lightning from her camera.

"You're blushing…"

Lightning looks away. "Sorry…" she apologizes for the inconvenience, feeling her face grow hotter. "Just give me a moment,"

Fang drops to her knees in front of Lightning. "No, no, no… it's perfect," she explains, the camera shutter flying again, inches from Lightning's personal space.

This close, she can feel the heat emanating from Fang's body. Its surreal in the sense that no one has ever been this close to her. No one has ever made her feel this way. Trapped, and yet, so powerful.

Fang stops clicking to change out the film to a new roll again. She stares at Lightning a moment, as if she wants to say something. Decides against it. Lightning wants her to speak, wants to know what she was going to say.

"Now?" she asks, when Fang steps back again.

Fang gestures with a wave of her hand. "We'll take it slow," she says, "one button at a time," she gives a wink, "no rush,"

No rush. Of course. _She's_ not the one being made to feel to like a blushing virginal bride finally exposing herself to her life's love on their wedding night. She never thought it would feel this way.

She should have realized it the moment she felt the spark of connection on meeting Yun that first day of their first shoot together. She felt it even then and since, it has grown. Into this.

Fang is the first photog to ever capture Lightning Farron nude. This month's spread is Lightning's first time. And it's all because of that damnable, so-cute smirk she's giving her right now, that awestruck, yet confident gleam in her gorgeous, to-die-for eyes, that driving, unspoken force between them that silently urges Lightning on, convinces her, that somehow, despite the billions of eyes, this moment is just for them.

* * *

Notes: Um, wow! thank you all so much for the support! I never expected to get anywhere near as many reviews for the first sub seeing how short it was, but it really is appreciated! :3 so here's another quickie! I did want to write something longer for this one, but (sigh) so many prompts... so little time... There's at least two more I wanna do and an unprompted sub that came to me earlier, I guess you could call it a self-fill. Also, I thought I'd put them all together like this so they wouldn't be all over the place. Till next time, take care!


	3. Little Rascals

-Little Rascals-

Lightning's arms held firm across her chest. Her glare was set at maximum. It was aimed at Fang, who stood there, looking for her part, as apologetic as she well should, and then some. Meanwhile, their twin daughters, who both looked exactly like Fang and had her same beautiful eyes, knelt on the ground before her, hands clasped together in front of them, begging for all they were worth.

"Pleeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaassssss ssseeee…. Mommmmmyyyyy…."

"Moooommmyyy pplllleeeaaaaaaaseee can we keep themmmm pleeeeeeeeeeseeeee?"

Lightning's glare intensified.

Normally, a glare like that would frighten any eight-year-old girl out of her socks, but the girls knew their mommy's glares well. There were times to be afraid of them and there were times when just a little more begging would usually result in a concession to whatever the girls wanted, not without a lot of yelling later on, but that was usually directed toward their mom from their mommy. Something about "mining" her and not to do it "under" while they were in front of the girls. Whatever that meant.

So the girls kept up the onslaught of big, watery eyes and pouty lips that usually did the trick. While their mommy glared hot daggers at their mom. Fang apologized again while her daughters tried to soften their mommy's resolve.

Lightning fixed her glare from Fang, to the box. This had all started the moment she walked in from work, carrying that damned box. Loud, insistent whimpering came from the box.

"What could I do? Just.. Leave them? They can't be more than two days old," Fang pleaded.

"You could have turned them in," Lightning scoffed, a logical solution.

The call this morning was about a behemoth terrorizing a small fishing town on the outskirts of New Bodhum. It must have been a female. The incessant whining coming from the box concluded that much.

"They would have been euthanized!" Fang yelled.

This was a point of contention with her. Hunting was a way of life for the folks of New Gran Pulse now, as much as it had been in Fang and Vanille's day. Yet, there were things Fang would never agree with. Killing a creature that was being a menace was one thing, but slaughtering something that had not even had a chance to live its life as Etro intended?

"We are NOT keeping a litter of behemoths," Lightning said, as calmly as she could.

Talyn, the younger twin, gently tugged at her mommy's cape. Lightning glanced down to acknowledge her.

"What's that mean? You-than-eyess?"

Riviera, the older twin picked up one of the pups out of the box and held it tightly to her chest as it whimpered and nuzzled into her. She mouthed, "Pleeeeasse, mommmmyyy?"

Fang gave it one final shot to convince her wife to give the pups a stay of execution. She reached into the box and pulled up a sleeping thing that jerked and occasionally mewled. She offered it to her wife.

"They're blind, bald and feeble,"

Lightning snorted a little, as she took the critter into her arms. "Reminds me of Dysley, only, cute,"

Fang felt a smile growing on her face. "Did you just make a joke?"

Riviera looked to her mom hopefully, "Does this mean we can keep them?"

Lightning gave Fang a pointed look. "Only til they're weaned,"

"Yay!" "I love you, Mommy! You're the Best Mommy Ever!" the girls cheered.

* * *

Lightning eyed the picture on her nightstand. She set down the book she had been reading and pulled the frame to her for closer inspection. It was her favorite of recent months. In the picture, Fang lay sprawled out on the living room couch, fast asleep, seven rowdy behemoth pups curled against her.

Lightning had to admit, glad as she was to finally be rid of the little terrors, Fang had been right. The girls had learned valuable lessons in responsibility. In fact, they were now two of the most mature eight-year-olds she knew. Even if she happened to be their mother, it didn't mean she was biased in _all _of her opinions about her daughters, did it?

She set the picture back on the nightstand as Fang's footsteps approached. Fang entered the bedroom to Lightning's expectant look.

"How did they take it?"

Fang smiled, "Pretty well, actually. Kept arguing about which one was gonna grow up to be the biggest,"

Lightning nodded. She had expected much more ado about Fang taking the pups to a wildlife sanctuary on the far end of Gran Pulse. She had expected much more crying and pleading. Yet the girls had gone to bed without so much as a peep.

Maybe it was time.

The house was certainly a lot quieter without Ice, Tooth, Choco, Wish, Shock, Zoe and Mot.

Lightning turned to Fang as the dark-haired woman crawled into bed, accepted a lazy kiss from her as Fang turned out the lamp.

"Fang,"

"Hm?" Fang pulled back and regarded Light with sleepy eyes.

"Let's get a puppy."

* * *

Notes:

THE PUPS:

1.) Ice (Snow)

2.) Wish (Hope)

3.) Choco (Vanilla)

4.) Tooth (Fang)

5.) Shock (Lightning)

6.) Mot (Sazh, idk?)

7.) Zoe, because Serah seems like the type of girl who would name a female pet Zoe.

The girls:

Talyn (Talon, "Fang", because Light would never let her name their kid "Claw")

Riviera, a play on Avery, after Light.


	4. Heartcrossed

-Heartcrossed-

That night, the stars glittered brilliantly, as if casting their own blessings down on the newly married couple. One Snow Villiers, aka Happiest Man Alive, and his newly wedded woman, the young and beautiful Serah (formerly Farron) Villiers.

Claire Farron was never one much for drinking, but tonight, she contemplated the rose-colored wine as it swished slow circles in her glass. As she watched the slow sway of couples in love on the platform being used for a dance floor at the small beachfront ceremony, Lt. Farron contemplated her life. One word came to mind.

Alone.

She was always alone.

Somewhere deep inside, it struck her how easily others were able to gather among themselves, be around each other, thrill in the inane ramblings of idle chit-chat. But not Lightning Farron, no sir. No mindless drivel in her life, thank you very much.

She downed her glass of wine in one quick gulp. _Down the hatch. _The liquid burned a path to her tummy where it settled warmly and numbed her senses, if only a bit. It would take a lot more to get her drunk, but hey, the night was young.

She looked through the crowds of perfectly-pressed tuxedos and saw a young man heading her way. She signaled him with a raise of her glass and he hurried right over. The clean-cut waiter with a white cloth napkin thrown over one forearm (for reasons Lightning wasn't sure of) gestured with the open bottle.

"Would madame enjoy an encore?" he asked with his weird accent.

"Fill 'er up, Johnny," Lightning stated. The waiter proceeded to carry out her request, despite the somewhat strange endearment. When finished, he turned to leave, but Lightning caught his wrist.

"Madame?"

"Leave the bottle,"

He looked as if he wanted to balk, leaving the bottle with her would require him to go down into the storage room and open another. One look from her icy eyes and he set the bottle on her table and bid her farewell.

"_Bon Apetit'_"

Lightning wrinkled her brow. "Same to you, buddy," she grumbled. It was just like Snow to go all out fancy, hoity-toity for Serah. Serah knew just how to beg to get her into a dress, too. God, how she wished she could be home, in her favorite sweater and jeans and warm wool socks, curled up in her papa-san chair with a good book, a fleece blanket and a nice, cozy fire crackling away in the fireplace. Good times.

Lightning poured herself a second glass and again drank it like a shot. A reflected vision of the newlyweds cast onto her glass and she barely let the drink settle before pouring herself another and downing that one. She was on the brink of pouring her fourth when a voice she didn't know rang through her, setting her nerves on fire with the timbre.

"You seem to be enjoying that,"

Lightning cleared her throat and sat up taller in her seat as the stranger came into view.

It was a woman. Tall, with a gorgeous tan, dazzling green eyes and the most bedraggled mop of dark hair, highlighted wisps turning this way and that in all their frenzy, but _God _it looked so sexy on her! Nevermind the forty inches of leg on her, or that low-cut, body-snug cream colored dress.

_Wait… am I a lesbian? _Lightning thought, _No, no, that can't be right._ She'd never even so much as looked at another woman. She'd never really looked at anyone. Too busy with National Guard stuff and trying to keep Serah in school to really worry with relationships.

"Mind if I join?" the sexy stranger asked.

Lightning saw no reason to dismiss her. She was certainly more interesting than anyone else here and might prove a better distraction than the wine for keeping her mind off what her little sister and that big lug were going to do later on tonight. Lightning motioned to the empty seat opposite her.

"I'm Fang," the stranger offered, "Oerba Yun Fang,"

"Lightning. Farron." she responded in kind and poured herself a fourth glass, offering the bottle to Fang when she was done. Fang poured herself a glass, set the bottle aside. She raised her glass eyeing the contents, then the woman with pink-blonde hair.

"What are we drinkin' to?" she asked.

Lightning glanced around at the couples swaying on the dance floor, sitting at the tables, talking and mingling with other couples and said,

"Being single,"

Fang chuckled, amused. "I can drink to that," she said as she clinked her glass lightly against Lightning's.

Lightning threw hers back fast and as she set her glass back down, ready to pour yet another, she caught a glimpse of deja'vu, or so it seemed. It was in the way Fang's throat worked, corded muscles working to swallow. The angle of her head tilted back, the line of her jaw. For just a moment, Lightning caught a flash of seeing the same exact thing in another setting. Another place and time. It faded quickly, but Lightning was able to retain just a speck of the memory. It was a beachfront bar, much like this one, and like tonight, they were surrounded by friends, Serah and Snow were there, too, along with some others she didn't know.

Fang finished and set her glass down as Lightning was still trying to shake the unfamiliar-yet-familiar from her mind. "Strong stuff," she said, blowing out a held breath.

Fang raised a brow at her. "It's only Merlot,"

Lightning squinted her eyes at Fang, attempting to place that unsettling feeling. "Have we…met before..?" she asked.

Fang's brow furrowed in thought. "I don't think so. I'd remember if I met someone with _that_ color of hair. Australia's big, but the town I come from's pretty small,"

_Ah, so that's it. _Lightning realized suddenly placing the foreign accent. Her new friend Fang hailed from the Land Down Under. She poured them another set of drinks and toasted to Australia, to which Fang said , "Why not?" and laughed before downing it.

Maybe the alcohol was starting to get to Lightning. It certainly wanted to loosen those tight lips for her. Hell, maybe she was just talking because she wanted to hear that familiar hum of the other woman's voice in return.

They talked about work, home, family life, those sorts of things, the wine becoming less necessary for all the laughter in its place. Lightning genuinely appreciated Fang's presence and found herself wondering where in the world this woman had come from, not Australia, but why hadn't they met sooner? It didn't matter. She was here now. Lightning, for the first time that night, relaxed.

Fang's eyes narrowed suspiciously as she seized one of Lightning's hands in one of her own. She leaned in closer to Lightning.

"Do you dance?"

Lightning stiffened, eyes perceptibly widening. "N-no…"

Fang quirked an irresistible grin, "I bet you do,"

Lightning vehemently shook her head, "No, I don't…"

"Come on, yeah ya do," Fang coaxed and stood, yanking Lightning to her feet. She ran to the floor, or walked really fast, Lightning couldn't tell with those long legs and the effect of the alcohol and standing up too fast. All she could do was try not to trip over her own heeled feet.

Her heart was hammering by the time Fang pulled her close and slipped an arm around her waist, the other laying on her shoulder. Lightning instinctively mirrored the positioning. She looked at Fang. "Everyone's staring," she accused.

"Let 'em" Fang said shrugging, and continued to sway with her. She pulled Lightning closer to her so their fronts were mashed and their cheeks were touching. She whispered in Lightning's ear, "Just follow the beat,"

Lightning swallowed thickly for what that husky voice did for her in that moment. Not knowing what else to do , she laid her head on the taller woman's shoulder and let the world drown out around them, until the only sound she could hear was the slow and steady beat of Fang's heart.

It was good for a while. It felt so right. Lightning swayed easily, moving in perfect time with the music and with Fang. It felt so right. Too right. Like she'd known this feeling before.

Lightning jolted back away from Fang with another slap of altered reality to the face. This time, it had been their wedding night, in an unfamiliar place. Not Earth. That place was definitely not Earth. But there had been a bar along the beach. And Lightning had the distinct memory this time, of missing Fang so desperately, and the joy of having her near. Having her _return_.

"You all right?" Fang asked of her, concern obvious, "You look a little pale,"

"I-I need some air.." Lightning excused herself from the dance floor, pushing away from Fang. She stumbled a bit in her retreat, but did not stop until she reached a place far, far away from the loud festivities where she could hear herself think. She found it along a wooden border rail that divided the public beach from private property.

Lightning took a deep breath and let it out, staring out at the empty, black sea as she listened to the constant, calming whoosh of the small waves that reached up the shore. Lightning leaned against the rail and took a few breaths to slow her speeding heart. She glanced up at the high, bright moon and was caught, dazzled in the brilliance.

Reality warped again that night, just a quick flash, this time and she was staring at a differently-shaped orbital satellite. The name was a whisper on her lips.

_Cocoon._

The image faded from her mind just as quickly as the others had, and she was left with only a fraction of memory. There had been a boy, barely in his teens. Her feelings for him were the same she held for her sister, Serah. They were _motherly_ in a way. Lightning shook her head again. She didn't know what was wrong with herself tonight.

_It must be the wine._

* * *

Abandoned on the dance floor, Fang suspended a moment in which she felt like going after the woman named Lightning. Her better mind put her against it though, and here came Vanille to hug her in close.

"Fang! Isn't this fun? I told you it'd be!" she exclaimed with great enthusiasm for the occasion. Fang continued her sway with her adopted sister still chattering away. The song changed after a while and lo and behold, they bumped into the bride and groom. After a quick introduction, Vanille suggested they switch partners. Fang thought she probably just wanted to gossip with her best college friend.

"So…" the big blonde began, letting an awkward silence pass between them, "..I …uh.., saw you dancing with Sis.."

"You mean Lightning?" Fang picked out. After all, they were only two with champagne colored hair.

"Yeah," he affirmed.

"What spooked her?"

He seemed to think for a moment, as if trying to find the right words. "That's just Sis," he finally shrugged.

"She's not the touchy-feely type I take it?"

Snow laughed. "You could say that,"

"Hmm…" Fang replied, absently swaying with him while her mind worked.

By the end of the song, she'd made up her mind.

* * *

She found her standing at a railing about a hundred yards off from the festivities. Fang sighed, took her heels off, and marched through the day-warmed sand. She cursed a few times when particularly sharp seashell bits stabbed into her tender and unsuspecting feet, but she made it to Lightning all the same.

Lightning was staring up at the sky, at the fireworks show that had begun. Fang crept up beside her, until Lighting felt her presence and turned to face her.

"I believe you owe me half a dance,"

Lightning dropped her gaze. "Sorry about that. I just…" She stared off into the fireworks for a long time.

Fang quietly enjoyed them, leaning against the rail with her. Finally, Lightning spoke again.

"Fang?"

Fang turned her attention to the gorgeous woman she'd been unable to take her eyes from all night.

Lightning sighed, "Sorry if I sound like an idiot, but…" here she paused again, before looking with dead sincerity into Fang's eyes.

"Do you believe in… past lives…?"

Fang raised a brow at that. "Y'mean… reincarnation?"

Lightning nodded quietly.

Fang shrugged it off. "Nah. But, now, parallel lives… that's possible. Maybe. I think."

Both quieted at a dazzling array of fireworks. Lightning spoke again after it had passed.

"We used to come here every summer for the Fourth of July. Mom loved them."

Fang picked up immediately on Lightning's use of the past tense. She said nothing else and continued to watch the bright, popping colors with the woman who made her whole being hum just by being there, next to her. After a while, she took a chance, the biggest chance, she'd taken all night, one that would change her life, if the feeling she had was right.

"Lightning… Do you believe in love at first sight?" Fang blurted out quickly. When Lightning only looked surprised at the question, Fang continued on. "Do you believe you can meet someone, look into their eyes, see into their soul, know they're the one for you?"

Lightning smirked, scoffing. "You sound like a terrible romantic Fang. Like Serah." She said, shoving Fang playfully.

Fang laughed, "That's not an answer," she reminded her.

Lightning thought seriously about the question. Did she believe in love at first sight? What did that even mean? How could you just meet someone and fall in love? Instantly?

"How would you even know?" Lighting questioned out loud.

Fang thought how best to explain, then answered.

"It's like guitar strings."

"What?" Lightning laughed at the ridiculous comparison.

Fang shook her head and continued her explanation.

"See…people, we're like strings on a guitar. And when you meet the person you're meant to be with, it's like you've been plucked. Your soul resonates with the other one. You can feel it, even. In your mind, soul and body."

By the end of her explanation Lightning was blushing. Fang pushed a little.

"So… have you ever felt that way..?"

_I'm feeling it now._

The moment stretched on too long, in which Lightning felt something was expected of her, so she finally said,

"No."

Fang puffed out a breath she'd been holding, with a nervous laugh. The moment effectively killed, she turned her attention back to the fireworks. Several minutes passed in awkward silence. Then, Fang felt rather than saw, Lightning sidle up to her so their arms were touching. She said after a moment,

"I like being here with you, Fang,"

Fang put on her best charming smile and replied, "I like being here with you, too, Light."

Lightning smiled in response. It was a soft smile, a shy one, and one that paused for long enough that Fang dipped her head a little closer, lips parted slightly. Her heart pounded nervously. She wasn't sure if she was making a fool of herself again. The look on Lightning's face said she wanted to, but she just stayed there, with that wistful gaze, eyes shifting from Fang's to her lips and back several times. Fang leaned a little closer and closed her eyes.

Lightning's lips felt like softest velvet against hers. Fang was a little surprised. She half-expected to be left hanging like earlier in the evening. She took a moment to savor the feel of Lightning's mouth against hers. Lightning kissed gently, exploratory, pushing her lips to massage against Fang's, tentative tongue seeking deeper entry. Fang allowed, opening for her and matching her tongue maneuvers with equal force. Lightning kept pressing for more, deepening the intensity and ferocity of the kiss, and Fang matched her at every increase, until they both pulled away, panting, desperate for air, and looking to each other with deep longing.

"I have to admit," Fang said after a heaving breath, "I don't want to stop…"

"Me too,"

Lightning closed that short distance for the second time, eager to feel again the resonance of her past lives, parallel lives, whatever the hell they were, that were telling her that this woman, Oerba Yun Fang, was her woman, the one she was meant to be with, in this life and God knows how many countless others. Their lips touched again and the feeling was just as strong as the first time, if not, stronger. The images flashing before Lightning's mind, the _memories_, the lives, reached a desperate crescendo, as if to confirm and drive the point home. This woman was her soul mate. She briefly wondered if Fang was experiencing the same. That was why she'd asked her about love at first sight, wasn't it?

Fang broke from her to plant little feathery pecks along her neck and Lightning nearly melted with her desire for her, right then and there. Her head got the better of her and she fisted a hand in Fang's hair, pulled her close and said in her ear in something between a shudder and a choked groan,

"Not here…"

"Right.." Fang agreed.

They walked back to the reception, hand in hand. The fireworks had long ago ended. Most of the guests had already left, and those that remained had built a huge bonfire on the beach. Fang and Lightning joined them in roasting the little cocktail weenies that were left over from the party. Introductions were made all around and as more wine flowed, embarrassing stories were revealed. All too soon, the time came for things to end.

Lightning didn't want them to. Vanille waited for her big sis to hug Lightning goodbye. Lightning took a chance, probably the biggest one she'd ever take, if her feeling was right. She held onto Fang's hand. Fang felt the tug as she tried to leave and turned back to Lightning to regard what else she might say.

"Light?"

"Stay."

One word, but it was enough. Fang turned back to her sister. "I'll uh, see ya tomorrow Van…"

Vanille and Serah both giggled as Vanille bid on her way to her car,

"Have fun, then! And don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

Fang cupped her free hand around her mouth and retorted good-naturedly, "That doesn't leave much!"

The drive home seemed excruciatingly long, but Lightning managed it in record time. She fumbled a bit with her key until Fang cupped a hand around hers to steady it to the lock. "Easy there," she soothed. But they barely got the door shut behind them before Lightning locked her mouth on Fang's again, shoving her against the door.

The frame rattled with the force of Lightning's desperation and Fang rubbed the back of her head. "Ouch."

"Sorry."

They stared at each other a moment longer, but a single moment was all they could take.

Lightning lunged first, mouth locking against Fang's, but Fang's hands went straight to the zipper of Lightning's dress in the back and frantically tugged. Heels were kicked off and they broke shortly to pull dresses over their heads. Another moment was taken to eye each other up and down, to intake the sight of each other in their lingerie. Then they were on each other again, knocking over furniture in Lightning's darkened apartment. Somehow they wound up on the floor, beside an overturned table. Lightning didn't care at this point. She was so needy, desperate for Fang to take her, to share herself fully with her life's one and only love.

Fang hovered above her, nipping at her neck and shoulders, melting Lightning into a puddle of jellified nerves while she deftly removed her bra. Lightning hissed at the first sweet contact of hot tongue against her already primed skin. Her fingers scraped Fang's skull and she moaned with Fang's suckling. She almost came right then and there. Fang was oh-so-good at that. She was panting her name by the time Fang switched breasts.

Lightning grew hot so fast with Fang, her thighs clenched around Fang's leg. Fang knew what that signal meant without being told. One hand slipped beneath Lightning's lace and found her. Lightning's eyes fluttered shut as she bucked in concert with Fang's hand. She groaned again when Fang thrust into her, then added a second because she was already so wet. Lightning pulled Fang to her mouth again to feel those soft lips against her own as Fang thrust into her with increasing speed and power to match her desperation. Lightning felt herself slipping closer to the edge. A few more well-timed thrusts and she was falling, the world pulled out from under her.

Stars shattered across time and memory, exploding ecstasy across the universe's consciousness, raining microcosmic bits of resonance back into her nerves. Contentedly wrecked. Her eyes adjusted focus in the dark apartment, the only sound, their muted breath. Lightning turned her head to face Fang, whose fingers now left searing, flutter-kisses where they idly traced her cheek, crown, jaw. A sensuous thumb making gentle love to her lips as its feathery tickle caressed both top and bottom in turn.

When she could move again, Lightning gave Fang a dose of the same. Fumbling a little at first, with some guidance from Fang, she quickly picked up the right technique and pace. It wasn't long till Fang was cursing softly, begging her not to stop, screwing her eyes shut tight against the uncontainable pleasure. Shuddering with the force of it when it finally spilled over.

Lightning woke next in the late, late afternoon. She was in her bed.

Alone.

A terrible dread filled her. Had it all been just a dream? She sat up, the sheets fell away. She was naked. And sore. That meant it had happened. But where was Fang? A lump filled her throat as her heart sank. Was it all a ruse? Had she said all those things just to get laid? Had she been duped into a one-nighter?

Lightning tasted lead in her mouth.

And bacon on the air.

She got up and pulled a robe from her closet to wrap around herself. Serah was so sweet, Lightning wanted to cry. Had she really come to check on her the day after her wedding. She shook her head. She'd told Serah she was okay with it. She'd have to have a serious talk with the girl, just to get her to go on her own damn honeymoon.

Lightning paused in the entry to the kitchen.

"You're finally up," Fang smiled, " I know it's late, but I made breakfast, 'cos we haven't eaten yet,"

Lightning again wanted to cry. Instead she walked over to Fang and hugged her arms tight around her and never let go.

* * *

Notes: Alot of things culminated into the creation of this story. The paragraph that starts "Stars shattered" is what first came to me in a quick jolt of muse-inspired creativity. The story is titled Heartcrossed, but the file is saved as "starcrossed", because the idea behind fated love is hopelessly romantic. As far as the idea of "resonance" and whether or not we are fated to meet certain people in our lives, I can speak from personal experience here. I have experienced this "resonance" exactly twice before, on seperate occasions, with two different people. Whether our life's path is destined from the get-go, I don't know, but I do know that there are people we are meant to cross paths with, and that some deep-down part of our subconscious or our soul is telling us "HEY! DON'T PASS THIS UP!" when it happens. On that note, I did ignore it one time and strangely enough, the person in question and I fell off speaking terms for a very long time, then, out of the clear, blue sky, this same person and I crossed paths yet again, when I very least expected ever hearing from them again. I took the idea a bit further in this story. Lightning's experience is a bit more intense as she can actually feel her other selves in her parallel lives. I don't know that I really believe in parallel existences, but the most basic theory on this, for me, goes back to the Back to the Future movies. In each instance that we make a choice in our lives, the timeline, the future, adjusts and the present becomes the new timeline. Parallel universes exist in an instance that we would have made a different choice. It was about time-travel, not parallel worlds, and that particular theory cancels out the possibility of parallel planes of existence, because the timeline adjusts to the choices you make, but whatever, close enough. I don't think I need to explain deja vu. Everyone's felt it at one time or another and no one really has an explanation for it, and it is one of the main causes for speculation on the aforementioned theories as well as that of reincarnation. There are a few more reasons I decided to finish this one. Raziel12 beat me to the publish punch, but his story was a sad kind of story, whereas I was going more for the "starcrossed lovers" feel. There was another unprompted, romantic kind of wedding FLight I'd started, but it had stalled on me. Someone filled one of the other prompts I'd started and while multi-fills are ok, I like to fill unfilled prompts when its a fillathon. The second prompt I'd mentioned several days ago had also stalled, don't know if I'll make the deadline with 3 hrs to go, but here's trying. And finally, the song, "Alone" by Heart. I'd been using it to try to summon some inspiration for prompt 51 with some pre-flight angst on Light's part, but the one lyric just struck me for this story, "I never really cared until I met you, and now it chills me to the bone,". Replace "chills" with "thrills" and its just a perfect match, or you don't even have to. Anyway, gods I've rambled quite the bit! Hope you enjoyed the story. Now I"m going to work on prompt 6, and hope I make the deadline. Till next time! Take care.


	5. Just One of Those Days

-It's Just One of Those Days-

The velocycle comes to a stop, the mighty roar of its turbines downshifting gradually to a low hum as Fang kills the auxiliary power and places it in park mode. The purple and black metallic glitter of a new paint job shine in the dull, flickering light offered from a broken lamppost vainly trying to continue its existence, despite obvious technical malfunctions.

Fang pockets her keys with one hand and gives her cycle a loving pat on the faring. She and Bahamut have been through a lot together over the years. The paint job had cost a pretty gil, but she likes to take as good care of the Bahamut 521 as he takes of her. She gives the cycle one last look-_damn that's a fine bike_!- and turns to head toward the bar.

Gravel and moist sand crunch loudly between the asphalt and her boots, but its just as well, the bar is on the beach, after all. She glances up at the bright neon sign: _LeBreau's._

One step inside the door makes her feel more at home than the beachfront suburbian lie outside. It's a rowdy-looking place, filled with tired eyes, lined faces, long hair and beards. The kinda place where the tension lays as thick as the heavy smoke hanging in the air. The kinda place where a fight could break out at any moment.

And Fang would welcome it. She's been itchin for a good fight for a while now. No particular reason why. Every now and then, she just needs to bust a few heads, y'know, work the tension out.

She hasn't seen much of that lately. Not since her partner's little accident. She can't help but feel a pang of guilt and regret at the thought of her…well, sister, for lack of a better description. Poor Vanille, layed-up in traction for six weeks while the bones in both of her legs mended after a particularly brutal fight that ended with more blood on Fang's hands in the form of swift and vicious revenge.

It was an insightful time for Fang, not that she was the type of person that was prone to that sort of thing, but it was one of the scariest times in her life. Fear ate her soul at every moment, fear that each shallow, labored breath would be Vanille's last.

That was the last bar fight Fang had been in. Since then, she's only taken "easy" jobs. Like her current one.

Fang shakes her head, sighing quietly to herself as she settles on a barstool and signals the tender for a beer, pointing to her choice along the racks behind the bar. The tender- a pretty little brunette thing- smiles and sidles over quickly. The perky woman flirts openly, showing no shame at all behind her sultry smile and suggestive eyes.

Fang downs her beer in one long chug, wipes away the bit that has dribbled down her chin with the back of a sleeve, slams the empty bottle down onto the counter and orders another. She waits as the alcohol slowly takes effect, the tingles of drunkenness making her senses shimmer in the darkened bar.

She doesn't have to wait long tonight. A leggy blonde approaches from her right, a fruity drink in hand, and takes the stool next to hers. She plays with her cherry, bringing it to her lips and rubbing it across, making a show for Fang. She suckles it between her teeth and finally pops it into her mouth when she figures its enough.

"You look delicious," she purrs.

Fang nurses her new drink, ignoring the woman completely for the moment as she gropes an arm to her waist.

"So fit, and… tight… in all the right places,"

Fang stands with the woman, who leads her by the collar to a booth in a darkened corner of the bar. The woman is wearing a tie, wire-rimmed glasses, and little else but thigh-high boots, an almost see-through blouse, and obscenely short skirt. She pulls Fang down on top of her in the booth and to any onlookers, they could be longtime lovers, or strangers meeting up for a quick fling. Either is as good a cover.

"Where is it?" the blonde woman asks, smiling as if she's saying something else entirely. Fang leans over her, trench coat draped around them adding a bit of privacy to prying eyes.

"Where's my money?" she retorts.

Rule #1: Money first.

Rule #2: See Rule #1.

The blonde runs her hand along Fang's back. Gotta keep up appearances. Fang caresses the woman's face tenderly.

"In my garter, darling,"

Fang reaches a hand up the blonde's skirt and the woman practically melts with Fang's wandering hand. She gives a shit-eating grin when Fang's search comes to no avail. "Close…but no cigar,"

Fang reaches into the top of one of the blonde's boots and feels the credit chip. She deftly pulls it out with one hand slips it into the concealed device in her coat pocket. After a moment, the device beeps faintly, letting her know that it is in fact loaded, and not just an empty chip.

"A pleasure doing business with you," Fang murmurs as she slides the data drive into the blonde's bra, making it appear to everyone in the bar that she's groping a feel. The blonde takes a moment to read the drive with a tiny device of her own. When she's satisfied, she grabs Fang up by the back of her head and steals a hot kiss.

The door bursts open and unbeknownst to Fang, a pink-haired woman stalks toward them, gun holstered at her hip, long, flowing red cape billowing out behind her. The pinkette stops right behind Fang. With one smooth move she yanks her off of the blonde, throwing her unceremoniously to the floor, and draws the gun at her hip with the opposite hand. It's only Fang's reflexes that make her miss.

Fang's dazed on the ground, trying to recover from the bump to her head, body twitching and jerking this way and that in a vain attempt to keep from being shot by the pink-haired stranger. A bit of warmth at her side tells her they didn't all miss.

Steeling her will, she kicks out and trips her assailant once the gun clicks empty. Well, that's the theory anyway. The woman backflips away, dodging the trip maneuver, but it gives Fang the moment she needs to get to her feet. Fang clears her head. She doesn't recognize the pinkette.

"The Hell are you?"

The pinkette doesn't say anything. Instead, stalks back over to Fang, attempts to deck her, rounds with an elbow when Fang blocks the punch. Fang staggers back from the blow, crashing into a table and breaking it.

"Hey!" somebody above her yells. The three bikers that were at the table pick up pieces of the debris to use and turn on the pinkette. She makes short work of them, kicking one into Fang, which sends her flying into another biker. He shoves Fang forward, right into a cheap punch from one of the other guys who had just gotten back to his feet. The pink-haired woman throws another guy over her shoulder to crash into the bar. The bartender screams,

"Dammit, Light!"

The next bit is a blur where Fang's defending herself from a bunch of angry bikers and a psycho pink-haired bitch who's obviously intent on killing her. When she can gather her thoughts again, she's laying on the floor of the barroom, the stranger standing over her. The pinkette pulls out a small scanning device and flicks it in Fang's direction. She runs it over Fang's body, frowns, and runs it over her again. When she doesn't find what she wants, she drags Fang outside into the parking lot.

The pink-haired bitch shoves Fang against the wall of the building, teeth grit together, eyes deadly, she hisses in Fang's face, close enough to kiss,

"Where is it?!"

Fang has a thought. Hell, she's gonna get killed anyway. The pinkette stiffens when Fang captures her lips and slips her a little tongue real quick. For that, Fang catches a backhand that rattles her jaw.

"Don't. Make. Me. Ask. Again."

Fang's spitting blood, trying to catch her breath. "Gone.." she groans.

"Where?"

Fang shakes head. In the midst of the fight, the blonde had slipped away. "Don't know,"

"Tch," the pinkette scoffs and slams her knee into Fang's crotch.

Guys, don't believe the bullshit. It does hurt a girl. The pink bitch's knee doesn't hit high up on the bone, no, the cunt catches Fang square in the girly-parts. The pain is unbelievable, incomparable to anything she's ever felt before. Fang collapses to the ground, writhing in torture as the pink cunt walks off, starts up her velocycle and takes off.

"Ma-ker!…Fu…ck! You…Biii..tch!" Fang yells between gasps in pure, blinding, white-hot agony. Gravity spins around her head. Lunch makes a debut on the gravel beside her head. She lays there, almost crying from the pain, trying to breathe. After a small eternity, some of the worst of the pain subsides and Fang crawls the distance over to Bahamut.

Her first attempt at standing is pathetic. She waits another small while and tries again to no avail. The third time, she grabs hold of the velocycle and drags herself up, careful to keep her legs together and not to strain her weight on them just yet. She hears the sickening sound of metal as it slides on gravel, then watches on in a slow-motion horror as Bahamut takes a dive.

She rights the bike and wants to cry again, seeing the amount of damage to the paint job and just trying to guesstimate how much it will take repair. She mourns her circumstance until the burning at her side reminds her to get a move on. Fang mounts Bahamut and starts him up.

Traffic is thick and she can't guess why at this hour. Even the back ways are jammed up. And accident or something ahead. Hours slog by at a crawl. Fang thinks she'll bleed out. She's getting a bit light-headed. Although, whether that's her side or her crotch, she isn't sure. Both pains just blend into one fiery, agonizing, torture.

She's finally home. She lands and parks Bahamut in the yard, not bothering to open the garage. She's halfway to the door when her foot sinks into something squelchy. Fang looks down and sees the pile of crap that she has no idea where it came from. She wipes her foot in the grass and takes off her boots, setting them by the door.

The front door is locked. She pounds on it. "Van!"

There's no answer.

Fang fumbles with the loose brick they usually hide the spare key under. There's a crunch as it falls onto her foot. For the second time, Fang sucks in pained breaths. She hurries in getting the key into the lock. If she can just get inside, she'll be fine. There's nothing inside that can hurt her, she thinks, as she slips into the door and shuts it.

Except… a gorgonopsid. It runs straight for her and Fang thinks this is the end. She can't run or fight in her condition. She presses flat against the door and waits for the inevitable end, eyes closed to her fate.

When it doesn't come, she peeks one eye to see the critter sitting in front of her wagging its tail. Then she notices the collar around its neck and the nametag: SPIKE. Well that explains the pile of crap.

"Vanille!"

There's still no answer. Fang stumbles to the couch and flops down.

"I'm shot!"

Sheets rustle in the bedroom. Fang turns to the sound of the door and watches as a grown man exits and her little sister kisses him goodnight, with only a sheet wrapped around her naked self.

"Aaarrgh!" Fang yells, visually assaulted with proof of her sister-figure's lost innocence.

"Fang!" Vanille exclaims. Seeing her bedraggled state, she hurries over "What happened to you? You promised no more fights!"

Fang chuckles wearily, producing the credit chip that'll get them through the next month. "All in a day's work,"

Vanille takes the credit chip and tucks it away in a safe place.

"I've been shot," Fang repeats, "Help me get the bullet out,"

In the light from the bathroom, Vanille wipes away the last bit of dirt. Fang keeps her eyes away, not wanting to look for the pain.

"Fang…" Vanille says, "what bullet?"

Fang looks down.

"There's just an ugly bruise,"

Vanille's right. Instead of a bloody mess, there's just a horrendous, black-and-purple welt. Fang sighs.

"Fucking cop,"

Fang trudges the distance to her own bedroom and collapses onto the bed. Her heavy eyes just start to close when she hears,

"Fang…why is this credit chip expired?"

Fang starts to laugh and doesn't stop for a long, long time. It's just one of _those_ days.

* * *

Notes: Title is from Limp Bizkit's "Break Stuff", because the first few lyrics pretty much describe Fang's day here. It was a bit of an afterthought, but it fit quite well, so.

Catch. U. Next. Tuesday: Yeah, I don't say this word much, but for kneeing Fang in the clitoris, Lightning deserves to be called a capital C twice in one paragraph.

I know the prompt was "bounty hunter" and it did start off that way, but truthfully, if Light was one, and she was looking to kill Fang, she would do it, end of story. Unless Fang had hold of Serah or some equally compelling reason to make her not kill her. Oh well, but it's 3 to Midnight here, so yay! XD


	6. Breaking Point

-Breaking Point-

Your heart's pounding a mile-a-minute. Adrenaline's coursing through your veins. Your knuckles grip the edge of the couch cushion where you've planted your hands to keep from cutting your own flesh with your nails. Your spine is rigid as you sit, but she probably thinks that's just you and your prim way. She doesn't stop.

Her voice is a siren's song to your Fang-sensitized hearing. Every lilt, every pitch, every inflection and the subtle changes in timbre that accompany that sweet, melodic symphony of accent tickles your ears and leaves gooseflesh running down your arms in its wake.

She keeps going. On and on, and on and on, and all you can do is avoid her eyes, glance in her general direction and give the occasional grunt of a noise for answer, because your throat is tight with need and if you look at her eyes right now, sparkling in all the enjoyment of her tales, you'll crack. You'll break completely like a dropped egg. And you don't know if you can be put back together after something like that.

Sometimes, you wish she would just…shut… up. If only to spare you the minute trembling in your limbs. That's what you're wishing for, hoping to Etro she'll get tired or run out of things to say. There's no one else here, Serah's gone shopping with Vanille for the day, and that's a dangerous situation. You don't trust yourself to be around Fang, alone. Not when you're all hyped up like this, drunk and dizzy on unrequited love and lust for your best friend.

Then it happens. She laughs that sultry, full-throated, unabashed laugh of hers. A shiver jolts through you to your core. Heat gathers below the waist of your jeans. Fang starts talking again, you realize she's told a joke. She's expecting a reaction from you. You slip up.

You glance over at her and realize your mistake. You're caught in those brilliant, jubilant emeralds and you wonder: Does she know she's so goddamned beautiful? Briefly, you hear:

"What'd ya say? …Light?"

It doesn't matter. You're not going to laugh at her joke. You didn't even hear it. You don't even hear what she's saying now.

You just. Can't. Take it. Any. More.

The world stops. Quick as your namesake, you pounce, grabbing the collar of her shirt to pull her into you as you lean toward her. You feel her stiffen against you as your lips brush and gently crush into her.

Your heart's rushing in your ears. Everything is still and quiet and just briefly, you feel her lips lean into you a split second before she pulls away.

You know you've screwed it, but it was so worth it. Slowly, you open your eyes and face your sentence.

You notice Fang's slowly doing the same. Her eyes drift up to meet yours and you don't back down. You challenge her to break your heart, end your friendship.

"Light?" she starts and it does nothing to bring you down from that celestial high you've been on just being around her all day.

"What was all that about?"

She starts going on about how this isn't like you and are you feeling alright? And no, godsdamnit, you're not. Every time she opens her mouth lights a fire in your heart and your can't fucking get enough of this sweet torture, but you can't stand it any more either. There's only one thing you can do.

You catch her eyes and go for broke. "Fang?"

She meets your gaze steadily with a question burning behind her eyes. You can't help but glance back down to the candy-taste of her lips before meeting her eyes again. Your breath comes ragged and hoarse.

"Shut up and kiss me," you instruct, pulling her toward you again as you part your lips for her.

To your utter surprise, she does, and pins you to the couch in the process, but you couldn't care less about the submissive positioning. Her lips crash against yours and it's more than you'd hoped for and everything you could never dream of.

You spend the next hour or so expressing what she means to you through this exhilarating experience and she reciprocates in the most sincere, enthusiastic kind. You're both groping, grasping, pulling, biting, trying to get as much of each other as you can in a single taste that hasn't stopped since it began. Your emotions run on high-tilt and more than a dozen times you get the distinct feeling that if you don't stop now, you won't be able to. But you don't care. You keep going until you're absolutely certain she's going to fuck you on your couch and you're going to let her.

Neither of you hears anything over your combined harsh breaths and pounding heartbeats.

"Hey guys, we're-"

"-OH MY GODDESS!"

The shock is so sudden, both of you are slow to come around to the source of your unexpected interruption. Fang pulls off you just enough to tilt her head up, a faint blush coming to her tanned cheeks. "Hi Serah…" she mutters, offering a small smile.

You lean your head back to see your mortified sister burying her face in her hands, her ears burning a bright, cherry red. "We were just….talking…" you falter, knowing it's a lie she won't believe.

Vanille giggles and leads Serah into the bedroom to discuss the clothes they bought, but you know it's a ruse. They'll gossip about you two the rest of the night. Fang watches them go and when they're out of sight, she glances back at you, eyes dancing with mirth and an all-too-sly knowledge.

"Now…where were we..?" she grins.

You feel your own smile growing. You can't wait to taste her again. "Here," you say, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her back down to you. As her lips touch yours again, you have a brief, though curious thought. You never knew breaking would have an up-side.


End file.
